


Dark Prompt Inspired AU Porn Snippets

by Shadow_of_Quill



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Porn, inspired by Dark OTP Prompts, kink fics, read index for details
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-04-25 11:59:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4959793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadow_of_Quill/pseuds/Shadow_of_Quill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of porn snippets. Given the source of the prompts, quite a few of them will probably count as horror - I'm aiming for erotic horror, but...</p><p>Chapter one is the index, with a description of each snippet and a list of relevant kinks/warnings. I'm not putting them in the main tags to avoid the tag wall of doom, but I will add relevant archive warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Index

**Author's Note:**

> Posting the first few of these for Halloween. Trick or treat?

**Chapter One: Index**

Lots of the snippets here occur in the Great Void of Whiteness, also known as The Author Didn't Describe Anything.

 **Chapter Two: Prompts: It's The End Of The World As We Know It; Fighting**  
_Light/L, dub-con, violence, rough sex, Dom/sub tones_  
L thought he was the only one left who wasn't feral, until the stranger arrived.

 **Chapter Three: Prompt: Vampire/Werewolf AU**  
_L/Light, vampirism (no kidding?), mind control, Light/L, forced bonding, noncon, knotting, bestiality (sort of - werewolf)_  
L's latest victim is a little different. Unfortunately for him, he didn't realise this in time...

 **Chapter Four: Prompt: Cannibalism**  
_Light/L, cannibalism, not Vore, murder (of original characters), noncon, intentionally unsafe sex, attempt to infect someone via sex, undefined magical illness_  
It's dangerous to be out-of-doors when it's the night of the full moon...

 **Chapter Five: Prompt: Darkness**  
_L/A, B/A, B/L, nonhuman, ill-defined sex, single gender, Light/L, pregnancy_  
In a world where most people literally shine, L is filled with darkness.

 **Chapter Six: Prompt: Demons/Fallen Angels/Angels/Any mythological equivalent**  
_Light/L, rape by coercion, nonhuman, post-transformation body hatred, mutual noncon, wingfic, first time_  
Light isn't entirely human. He knew some people would want to use that, but he had no idea how far they'd go...

 **Chapter Seven: Prompt: Lovecraftian Horror**  
_L/Light/L, Light/Matsuda, L/Matsuda, L/Misa, Light/Misa, Matsuda/Misa, ill-described sex, transformation/corruption, old-fashioned writing/style, implied minor mind control_  
T ~~\----~~ M ~~\------~~ reflects on the horrible results of L ~~\----~~ Y ~~\-----~~ 's experiment.

 **Chapter Eight: Prompt: Modern Horror**  
_L/Near, Light/L, Light/L/Near, Near has an undefined chronic mental disability, sibling incest, abuse of authority, rape through inability to meaningfully consent, implied grooming, unhealthy Dom/sub, seriously unhealthy relationships_  
Near loves white. Outside and inside.


	2. Apocalyptic; Fighting

His name used to begin with L. He thinks.

There's no one left who'd use it. He can still think rationally, can still read, can probably still talk in thirty languages or so - but what's the point of talking when there's no one who understands you?

 

He makes a territory for himself. The other survivors are feral, animalistic - it's not difficult to convince them that he's too strong to fight. They leave him alone.

He could probably leave, but he has no reason to go.

 

The newcomer walks boldly into his territory. L snarls at the challenge, knife raised threateningly (guns were so worthless without bullets, but knifes last for years).

The newcomer doesn't attack, cocking his head to the side as he takes in L's clean(ish) clothes and (roughly) cut hair and cared-for knife. "Can you understand me?" he asks, and L's own eyes widen as he realises that this brave, bright, beautiful man in front of him is _not feral._

They narrow immediately as something like spite rips through him. How _dare_ this stranger show up? How dare this stranger show up _now,_ after L has had years of loneliness to make him wonder whether keeping his intelligence was even worth it?

L doesn't answer. L snarls, and _attacks._

The invader moves almost like dancing, dodging L's strikes, striking back with closed fists and hard kicks. L is used to being the only one fighting who can _think,_ but this stranger moves like he spars with others who can strategise, and L - for the first time since he made his territory, L is _losing._

(He might want to.)

A well-aimed kick, L's hand goes numb and his knife falls to the ground. A fist in his stomach before he can adjust, and L drops to his knees, and then the stranger swings L's arm around behind his back in what he vaguely recognises as a joint-lock and L finds himself pinned to the ground, defeated, helpless.

His defeater is panting, pressed against him, and L vaguely realises that their position could once have been considered compromising. His eyes widen in shock as the victor reaches around to undo his trousers.

"If you want me to stop, you'll have to _say so,"_ the victor hisses in L's ear, and L realises that this is an attempt to make him talk, to prove that he can still reason.

He's pretty sure shaking his head would be enough to make the stranger stop. But he's hard, they're both hard, and the stranger is beautiful and strong and L thinks he might _want_ this, so he arches his back encouragingly and whines. 

The stranger jerks, chokes on his surprise, and then L's trousers are being shoved down his thighs and the stranger is opening his own flies. Something, some fluid, gets rubbed into L's crack, and then he's groaning as the stranger lines up his dick with L's asshole and _pushes._ It aches, it burns, and yet it's so - not _good,_ not exactly, but _something_ \- he can't help rocking his hips back trying to get more. His victor, his _master_ keeps pushing forwards until he's completely inside - it feels like a hot pole inside L's ass, spitting him, pinning him down and making him helpless and he _loves_ it, and then his master starts moving out-and-in and it's _better,_ and he's only just aware that he's making sounds he's never heard before and he doesn't even care how submissive they are because he _loves_ this, the burning ache and hard thrusts and his master suddenly grabs hold of his hard cock and that's _better,_ that's _too_ good, and he screams his pleasure loud enough to be heard outside his territory.

He thinks he might have screamed words, but from his master's disappointment he knows he didn't.

His master kisses his cheek, stands up reluctantly, holds out a hand. "Will you come with me?"

L meets his eyes and nods, once. It's enough to make his master's face light up.

His master has a destination. L has no reason to stay.


	3. Prompt: Vampire/Werewolf AU

L stared intently into his latest victim's eyes. The pretty teenager was strongwilled enough to be a challenge, but L had been doing this for centuries. _'Relax. Trust me. I'm your friend.'_

Plump lips slipped apart as amber eyes glazed over. L let his own mouth fall open, baring lengthening fangs. _'Yes. Your friend. You'll give your friend what he needs, won't you?'_

A tiny furrow appeared between the boy's eyebrows as he tried to resist, but L soothed the boy's mind, reducing his almost-complaint to a breathy sigh. L gently pushed the boy's head to the side, baring a smooth expanse of warm skin that made his fangs ache with anticipation. _'You'll give me what I need.'_ The boy trembled. L could feel that he was on the verge of submitting - one more push... He reached for the boy's name, and found it. _'You'll give me what I need, won't you, Light?'_

"Yes..." the boy breathed, and L sank his fangs into Light's throat. Light's breathing deepened until he was panting, holding himself up by clinging to L. L barely noticed, absorbed in analysing the taste of Light's blood - it was deliciously rich in a way he'd never come across before, and far more satisfying than any previous meal. He took more in a long, slow pull, and Light moaned in enthralled ecstasy, the tiny part of his mind left aware now completely swamped with orgasmic bliss.

L took his time, drinking slow and deep, knowing that each mouthful he drew made his victim feel as though he were coming, even as they left him weaker and weaker. Even if someone were to stop him right now, to rescue the boy, Light would seek him out for more as soon as he recovered enough to move.

Satisfied, L finally drew back, letting Light drop unconscious to the floor. He was astonished to realise that the boy was still alive - he'd never finished without draining his victim.

L smiled to himself as he left the cave. Light might come looking for him once he'd recovered. It would be the first time L had more than one full meal from a single person.

 

Light woke up shivering, feeling tired and weak. His eyes swept the cave, but there was no sign of the man who'd -

Light trembled under a sudden wave of desire. He needed - he needed -

He needed to _change,_ to heal from -

Another shudder, and the drained adolescent human was a healthy adolescent wolf. Healthy - and _starving._

 

Standing over the deer's bones, sated, Light could finally think again. He brushed his fingers over the healed bite on his neck, then smirked.

Somehow, he doubted the vampire knew that subduing, biting, and bringing to climax was the werewolf equivalent of a marriage proposal. He hoped not.

Things would probably go much more smoothly for Light if his new mate didn't realise he had the option of saying 'no'.

 

L stared in disbelief as a wolf - an actual, genuine, _wolf_ \- slunk out of the shadows. The wolf cocked its head, seeming amused - and suddenly he was faced with the boy he'd fed from earlier that day.

 _'Werewolf?'_ he managed to ask, most of his mind screaming how ridiculous this was - he'd lived for _centuries,_ surely if werewolves were real he'd have run into them before now?

The boy - Light, L remembered - nodded, looking at L with an unnerving glint in his amber eyes. "And you're a vampire," he purred, stalking towards L.

Both L's eyebrows rose. Did Light think he could make L nervous?

Light quirked an eyebrow back. "What? You started this. I'm just accepting your proposition."

L froze for a moment. _'My **what**?'_

Light chuckled, close enough by now to nuzzle L's cheek. "You're playing cute, pretending not to understand." He slid hot fingers under L's shirt, toying with the waistband of his jeans before popping the button and unzipping them. "You _are_ cute," he murmured, "so you don't need to play. I can think of other games."

L thought that he should move away, make Light stop, but he was distracted by the warmth that seemed to spread through his body from Light's hands on his skin, Light's blood making his body sensitive in a way he hadn't felt in... centuries. He could feel Light's blood in his veins, rushing down as Light kept touching him.

"Very... cute..." Light murmured against his skin as he slid L's jeans down. L let him, not entirely sure how far this was going to go. He told himself that if Light went _too_ far, he could easily overpower him - but part of his mind kept asking what counted as too far, and it sent strange little thrills down his spine to realise he didn't have an answer.

Light slipped out of his own clothes absently, far more intent on mapping L's body with his fingers than putting on a show. "I'll make you feel good," he promised, guiding the stripped vampire to kneel with his back to Light, and then to bend that small bit further and present himself.

L tensed, ready to get up, telling himself that _this_ was too far - and then froze, eyes wide, as Light leaned over him and started to lick. That - technically, it wasn't unhygenic, since L's biology had ceased functioning in any way that required it centuries ago, but why would it - why _did_ it - feel _good?_

He shivered, instinctively tilting his hips to make it easier for Light to reach. Light's tongue was so wet and sloppy as he licked around and inside L's hole that L almost thought he was intentionally drooling, but it felt so good he couldn't protest.

And then Light was pulling away with a pleased mutter of, "Such a good bitch," and L clawed at the ground as something hot and solid and _large_ pressed against his wet hole and began to _push._ He bucked helplessly as he felt the head of Light's cock make it past the ring of muscle and press in deeper, opening him in a way he'd never felt before. Light just laughed, pleased, and nuzzled L's shoulder as he started thrusting fast and hard. "It's good, right?" he demanded, and L nodded, humiliated by his own reaction but still meeting each thrust eagerly. Sparks burst behind his eyes each time Light hit just the right spot, and he shuddered whenever Light's hands stroked over his chest or sides.

"Gonna - gonna -" Light panted as he went from thrusting in-and-out to keeping his hips pressed tight against L's and grinding his hips, putting his hands flat on the floor around L. It sounded like it was meant as a warning, but L couldn't imagine of what, and then -

L didn't really notice Light's arms change to legs, or the skin against his back become fur, because all of his attention was swallowed by the feeling that a grapefruit was inside him and grinding against that one perfect spot, and he was too busy coming his brains out to pay attention to unimportant details like that.

He came back to himself to find that his arms had given way at some point during his orgasm, and he was literally hanging off his lover's knot. He reached shakily and rubbed his stomach, feeling hot fluid still being pumped inside him. Light whined, then returned to his human form and licked L on the cheek before carefully withdrawing and then curling up around L.

"Will you be my mate?"

L stared at him, not wanting to make any plans until he recovered from the sensory overload Light had just forced on him. Light seemed worried he might choose not to, and added, "If you do, I'll let you feed on me every day."

L considered. Light's blood _was_ better than any human's he'd ever had...

"And then we'll mate. Every day."

L stopped thinking. _'Yes.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> L is only using telepathy to communicate, because when he was Turned the vampire who did it destroyed his vocal chords. Yes, I should have worked this information into the snippet itself. No, I did not.


	4. Prompt: Cannibalism

L couldn't believe just how stupid some criminals could be. _Everyone_ knew how dangerous it was to be out after dark during the full moon; the curfew existed for a _reason._ And yet, instead of just restraining him and leaving him to be eaten, these morons were out risking their own lives just to taunt him some more, laughing away the more nervous attitude of the smarter ones.

"Wonder how long he'll survive?" one of them sneered, yanking L's head back painfully.

"Longer than you," an unfamiliar voice answered from the shadows.

The men at the edges of the group barely had time to swear and reach for their weapons before they were attacked. L shuddered as he watched, not bothering to move except to hunch a little lower.

_If you run, they chase._

Screams from further away told everyone that the gangmembers at the edges of the scene hadn't managed to escape. Screams - and dull wet tearing sounds.

L told himself he was imagining the sound of chewing.

_If you threaten, they kill._

Trying for bravado, the leader of the gang raised his - so very illegal, here in Japan - gun, aiming shakily into the dark. Inspired by his lead, several of his men fired wildly.

L listened, and knew none of their bullets had hit flesh. There was screeching laughter from his left, and then bodies leapt out of hiding, moving faster than human reflexes could keep up with. The grip on L's hair vanished, and hot blood spattered over his back. The man to his left fell before he could make a sound, throat torn out, eyes still bulging with shock as he fell dead to the concrete. The monster who'd killed him swallowed without chewing, clearing its throat for more meat. To L's right, two men shouted, screamed - one held by a monster who crunched down on his collarbone and just kept going until it reached his lungs, the other with his ribs being broken and plucked out of his chest. In front of L, a monster that looked chillingly like a petite young woman giggled happily as her sharp claws tore open a man's stomach, reaching in and up to drag out the man's heart.

L froze in the horrifying carnage, waiting for one of the monsters to turn on him. A young man who would have been beautiful if he hadn't been covered in blood and devouring someone's arm walked into his range of vision, looking at him with curiousity that changed to unholy delight as their eyes inadvertantly met. L held their stare, not daring to look away, fighting his urge to vomit and trying to ignore how rapidly the young man stripped the flesh from the bones he was carrying.

It was - almost - vilely fascinating to see for himself how quickly and thoroughly the creatures ate, larger chunks of muscle torn away and swallowed, bones crunched between unnaturally strong teeth - the entire arm was gone in less than a minute, only leaving some more blood around the thing's mouth and on its own hand.

The man grinned, baring darkened teeth. L knew that in better light they'd gleam red. "Oh, look at you," he breathed, husky voice appreciative as he studied L's face. L didn't blink, but the man was suddenly right _there_ in front of him, like a low budget special effect. "You're so pretty," the man continued, one hand stroking L's bangs out of his face, and L froze in renewed horror at the possibility that the man in front of him might be seeing something other than food.

"Him?" one of the other monsters asked, echoing L's own disbelief.

Instead of being insulted, the man nodded, face bright as he pushed L onto his back and started to tear at his jeans. "I want him."

"Do I - get to say no?" L asked, half-whispering, not entirely sure where his sudden bravery came from - yes, this happened sometimes, he knew the statistics, but he'd never thought that anyone, monster or not, might choose _him_ \- not sure if he was glad that he'd survive or terrified of what would come next -

"Of course not," the man chuckled as he bent over L, lifting him by his thighs until L was raised and spread with the man's breath playing over his anus. "Why would I let you?"

He started licking before L could answer, hot wet tongue probing intimately in a way L had never experienced before. L whimpered, telling himself that the pleasure his body felt at the caress was purely physical reaction to stimulus. He wanted to fight, but he couldn't escape, and struggling was just as likely to be taken as encouragement as it was resistance.

**Chance of infection: 3%**

The pack finished the remains of the gang and ran freely around the streets, completely ignoring what was happening to L as they played some bizarre form of chase-tag with each other. L noted that most of the ones he saw still looked human, though two - a man and a woman - were obviously warped by the infection. He stared, trying to distract himself by cataloguing what he could see, not wanting to acknowledge the tiny whimpers he was making as the monster's tongue seduced his asshole into opening for it.

His thighs trembled as that tongue started sliding in and out in a mocking echo of what the monster planned to do with him, his whimpers growing louder and drawing the occasional glance. Physical, it's just physical, he tried to convince himself, but he couldn't hide from himself that the slick wetness pushing in was making him feel _good_ and getting him hard. The tongue slid deeper and he moaned, hips trying to buck against it. His rapist took the move as encouragement, tongue-fucking him faster and harder, humming with pleasure as L's cock rose in a very obvious display of how good it felt to him.

Suddenly, the hot mouth that was melting him pulled away and L was dropped onto his rapist's thighs. L yelped, then keened as his legs were grabbed again and his rapist's cock was pressed up against his asshole. He should say no - but it didn't matter - he should struggle - but it wouldn't make a difference - he should - he should -

He groaned, loud and hungry, as his rapist's cock started to press inside. He shouldn't be ashamed that it felt good, he told himself firmly: it wasn't as if he'd had a choice. So he could - he smiled, remembering the advice given to anyone in his position - relax and enjoy it.

**Chance of infection: 10%**

His rapist made a pleased sound as L relaxed, slowly burying himself in L's welcoming body until L could feel his groin against L's butt. L shuddered, wondering how large the cock filling him actually was, wondering if he wanted to know. He stared up at the face of his rapist. The blood that had covered it had been rubbed away, leaving one of the most beautiful men L had ever seen smiling down at him lustfully.

"Yeah, you're taking it so well," his rapist purred, making L shiver, and pulled back slowly, a long slow drag that made L's vision blur. "Taking it deep," he breathed as he pushed back in. L whimpered, intentionally keeping himself relaxed and open, not even sure whether the blush on his cheeks owed more to shame or arousal and not really caring as the man above him took him slow and hard. Each thrust in felt unstoppable. Each withdrawl made L want more.

He'd have expected frenzied rutting from one of the infected, but the man taking him seemed intent on drawing it out as long as he could, smiling triumphantly every time he forced a whimper or groan of pleasure from L. The pressure kept building inside L until he couldn't stop himself from reaching for the man, pushing himself up until he was sat on the man's thighs. The new angle made the cock inside him feel even larger, and L's eyes rolled back as he clung to his lover's shoulders.

"Fuck," his lover hissed, "It's that good for you?"

"Yes," L moaned, the first word he'd spoken since asking if he could refuse. His lover growled, one hand dropping to guide L's hips in a new, faster rhythm, the other burying itself in L's hair to tug his head back just far enough for his lover to see his face.

"Let me see those moonlit eyes of yours," his lover panted, and L tucked the words away to consider later even as he stared into his lover's intent gaze, sharp cries bursting out of him with each jolt of their hips until L was arching back, legs wrapped tightly around his lover's waist as he clenched around the cock pulsing inside him and came.

His lover held him close. L vaguely felt that he should be trying to pull back, but it wasn't as if there was anywhere he could go till the moon set - and that wouldn't be for hours.

"I hope you'll come run with us on the next full moon," his lover murmured tenderly.

L froze, suddenly aware of the itch of fluid trickling out of him. His lover had come in him.

**Chance of infection: 25%**

"I'm Light," his lover - his rapist - introduced himself. "You'll stay in our territory for the next month. 

"We want to make sure that you join our pack."


	5. Prompt: Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Most people are filled with light. L has always been different...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is weirdly faux-poetical. Actual relevant stuff: There is only one gender in this, so I'm using se/hir/herm for everyone. Light is being called Raito, just in this one snippet, just to make a clear distinction between him and the light that... well...

People are born with a light shining from them. Some gleam, some glow, a rare few blaze.

L is born with darkness roiling through herm. When se is old enough to understand, se thinks that this explains hir parents' abandoning herm.

Watari takes herm in despite hir darkness, cares for herm despite hir darkness, and L basks in Watari's comforting glow and assures hermself that se isn't missing anything. B's arrival at the orphanage, the discovery of another child of darkness like herm, assures herm se is right.

Se learns how wrong se is with hir first crush. A glows, not the brightest but so warm, and L wants to share hermself with herm. B does too, but L isn't sure whether B is drawn to A because of A or simply because L is.

L and A curl together in bed, close, like lovers. Lovers let their lights mingle, share hue and brightness till instead of two lights there's one split between two people. A's glow seeps from herm, and L lets hir own darkness out, both of them wanting that closeness, that completion - but A's light dims without ever brightening L, and instead of joy there's only desperation as they try and fail to join with each other.

L blames hermself for being too dark and dimming A's light, unaware that A blames hermself for not being bright enough to lighten L's darkness, and B watches and sneers and beds A as hermself and as L, playing both roles with no one else the wiser as se smothers A's light again and again, and A is dead before any of them reach adulthood.

B beds L, too, darkness to darkness, whispers poison in hir ear about how they must have been made for each other because no one else could survive them as hir darkness floods L, chokes L, and L is left feeling weak and empty and hating the thought that this might be all se can have without risking hir partner's death. L turns away from B, chooses loneliness over that choking darkness, and B shrugs and beds others, drowns their lights, kills them like se killed A. Death after death after death, till B is caught and tried and imprisoned and L tells hermself that se welcomes the loneliness and solitude.

L goes on, grows older, learns to hide hir darkness till everyone around herm thinks se's hiding light instead.

L wishes for a lover with a light bright enough to survive herm. Se doubts anyone exists.

And then se is taking a case in Japan, working alongside the eldest child of the NPA's chief, and all hir want rises and burns in hir throat and the pit of hir stomach because Raito's existence is some sick irony of the universe, that someone _named_ for the light exists who so perfectly matches L and yet has a light barely above average, a light that would never survive L's darkness.

So L thinks.

Until L sees Raito with hir lovefriend, Misa. Sees how Misa's light focusses on Raito's. Sees how casual Raito's response is. Sees how bright Raito's casual response is.

Something doesn't add up. If Raito's light is as dim as it seems, then it should merge with Misa's without effort - but though Misa glows brighter after their trysts, Raito's light is completely unchanged. It's as if Raito's glow is false, as if hir true light is hidden.

L starts trying to provoke a reaction from Raito, to see hir light more clearly. Se tells hermself that se just wants this one minor discrepancy explained, that se'll stop once hir curiousity is satisfied.

Se's lying to hermself. Each flicker, each flash, just makes herm want to see more of Raito. The two of them barely notice Raito's relationship with Misa breaking apart as it becomes more and more obvious that Raito shines hir brightest in L's presence, each obsessed with getting beneath the other's skin, drawing them out, until the time comes when they're alone and pressing close as Raito's light blazes out brighter than any L has ever seen, ever heard of, and L can't keep hir darkness back.

Raito doesn't care. Raito blazes, Raito burns, and L's darkness can dim but not extinguish hir light. They press together, making out with a fury L hasn't experienced since A, since B, since se realised for the first time how dangerous se was - but Raito can withstand herm, and L realises that Raito's own blinding brilliance would be just as overwhelming as hir darkness, just as dangerous, and that Raito must have learned to turn it inwards instead of overpowering everyone around herm. L wants to laugh - se'd been so sure se'd never have this, and now it's here in front of herm in the form of a gorgeous teenager whose light has been turned on itself so completely that se's completely blinded to who se even is.

Raito's light pierces L's darkness, and L's darkness embraces and clings to Raito's light, and they're both glowing as they come together, finally completed in a way neither's ever felt before, Raito's light shining on parts of L that se's never been able to see for hermself, L's darkness shading Raito till se can make out the details of hir own nature that were always hidden in the brilliance.

Neither of them try to hide their new relationship. Neither of them could, with the afterglow still gleaming from their skin and in the depths of their eyes, with their desperate renewal each time it fades or brightens too far.

And when Raito becomes pregnant, L kisses hir rounded belly, and Raito kisses herm - two silent promises that they will never abandon their child, even if they have the same darkness as their parent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...Today's lesson: don't post until you've had a chance to look it over. Edited so that it's (very slightly) closer to fitting the 'porn' part of the title.


	6. Prompt: Angels, Demons, etc.

They guide Light through the corridors without touching him. He doesn't like being touched by them. He doesn't like anything about them, about this, but he can't escape, so he follows their dim gleam through invisible halls and pretends that it doesn't bother him.

He's not sure if they know he can't see properly any more, but he thinks they probably do - it's the reason he hasn't tried to escape, after all, and he hasn't been careful enough for them not to realise that he wants to.

They stop. He stops a pace behind them, and watches as one of them pantomimes opening a door, barely visible finger tapping out a code on a completely invisible lock, barely visible hand curling around a completely invisible handle and pushing. "Do have fun," one of them purrs, and his hearing has been altered to the point that he can't even tell if it's a voice he should recognise, a voice he knew before.

He hopes not.

He nods, keeping his expression blandly dismissive - the arrogance hides the fear, and that might be the only thing keeping him safe. He doesn't know what more they could do to him, but that's a horror all its own, because he thinks that they don't know either - and they'd enjoy finding out so very much.

He steps through the doorway, wings pulled close to keep them from catching on the sides, tail tucked beneath them, painfully grateful that his horns are short enough for him to pass under the doorframe without needing to bow his head.

It takes everything he has not to stop and just stare.

There's a person in the room, and _he can see them._ They glow, as bright as his own body does when he can bear to look at himself, a statue carved in silver-blue light.

An obscene statue.

Light is pretty sure the humming he picks up is electronics, and that probably means there are cameras watching. He knows what they want to see, so he tries to give an impression of appreciating the view of a stranger lying on their back, legs doubled up uncomfortably and arms stretched out, wings underneath them -

Wings.

Light walks forward, trying not to show his weakness, trying to seem dignified instead of blind.

The stranger twitches, but nothing more, and Light swallows down bile as he realises that they must be tied down. He reaches, carefully, holding his hand so that he can run his fingertips over the stranger's face without dragging his claws over it - he has no idea how much damage they'd do. For all he knows, they're venomous, and he might kill the stranger with a single touch.

He starts at the stranger's thick hair, part of him wondering what colour it is. His fingers touch bare skin as they travel past the stranger's eyes - so the stranger can see him, then, unless the room is dark (he can't tell, he thinks that part of the electronic hum is a lit bulb but everything is different now and he can't tell). The sense of reciprocity reassures him, steadies him enough that he lets himself look closer at the face beneath him.

He doesn't recognise it. The stranger is androgynous to the point he couldn't even tell that they're a man if it weren't for the - obvious - proof - that he is _not looking at_ except from the corner of his eyes, pressing tight against the stranger's stomach (does he like this? Is he _enjoying_ being tied down while a monster strokes him?). The man's mouth is opened uncomfortably wide, and as Light runs his fingers down he feels a band of some material. His fingers slide across to find a plastic ball holding the man's mouth open.

Gagged.

Light slides his fingers in the other direction, looking for a fastening he can undo. He's lucky - the metal catch is cold and hard under his fingers, easy to recognise. He tilts his fingers the slightest amount and draws the tips of his claws over where the buckle is.

There's a quiet clink, but no resistance.

He lifts his hand away and reaches for the ball again - and this time the strap is loose. His claws must have gone through the metal. He hopes they didn't go through the stranger's skin, too.

Awkwardly, angling his hand so that there's no risk of his claws piercing the stranger, Light manages to get the gag out of his mouth. "Can you talk?" he asks softly, hoping that there are no microphones close enough to pick up what he's going to say.

The stranger is staring up at him (so he _can_ see him) warily, working his lips and jaw. "Yes," he admits, and Light isn't sure but he thinks that the voice is as androgynous as the man's face.

That admission is the greatest amount of trust anyone has ever shown Light.

"I - I'll try to get you free," Light murmurs, mind flying through plans to excuse himself, to protect the man in front of him, if the people holding them here dislike his actions. "Would you prefer arms or legs first?"

The stranger raises his eyebrows, eyes going wider in surprise. "You - you can't see, can you?"

Light tenses, can't help himself, doesn't want to answer - but this is something that the stranger will need to know, so he forces his pride down and admits, "Not properly. I don't understand what's happened to my sight."

The stranger's face is almost blank, but his colours - swirl, pulse, move? Light can't even describe it to himself, and it disturbs him on a completely new level to realise that he instinctively understands that the change means embarrassment, humiliation, because the recognition is familiar and Light knows enough about neurology to realise that at least some of his mirror neurons must have been changed to read _this_ instead of physical cues, and the effects from that - he knows his body is no longer human, but he can't afford the questions that are rising about how much of his mind still is.

Those questions are scattered when the stranger says, "Then could you remove the vibrators first?"

Light has never blushed - he's physically incapable - and he's glad of it, because he has no idea what that would look like on his changed face. Reluctantly, he steps back and turns his attention to the area of the stranger's body that he has been trying to ignore.

And blinks. And tries very hard not to freeze and stare - but it _is_ hard, because now that he's looking he can see far too clearly that beneath the stranger's scrotum he has _two_ openings, and one seems to be a vagina.

Light underestimated the stranger's androgyny, he tells himself, and then swallows another surge of bile as he realises what this means, what this is about, why he's been brought here. Trying not to think about it, he gingerly reaches to feel what he's dealing with, and finds that the vibrators are in fact one vibrator, a double-ended dildo bent over and forced into both holes. His hand tightens a little too far as he takes hold of it, and he hears a crunch as part of the electronic hum in the room goes quiet.

The stranger sighs with relief as the dildo is withdrawn. Light throws it to the side, unwilling to risk stepping on it at any point, and hears a wet thud as it hits a wall.

"Thank you. Now my legs," the stranger directs, and Light obeys with the same cautious technique he used to remove the ballgag, then does the same with the stranger's arms without being asked.

He manages to brush the back of his hand over the stranger's wings as he does it, and feels a softness that he is convinced is feathers. "Are you one of the nephilim?" he breathes.

The stranger tenses - caution, paranoia - but answers honestly. "Yes. And yourself? A demonspawn?"

Light nods slightly, distracted by trying to figure out whether the stranger's - the nephil's - wings have been restrained. "These people round them - us - up," he explains, "to use to get our progenitors' favour."

"How?" the nephil asks sceptically.

"There's a potion that brings out the magically recessive traits. I think it was designed for when mundane animals were bred by magical ones, but it works - a little differently - on human hybrids." Light stares at the golden blaze of his claws, his hands, against the moonlight glow of the nephil's wings. "It can be - not controlled, but - directed. Normally, the people it's given to don't understand what's going on, so when they see visible signs they panic, try to force them away - and that just makes all the changes non-physical."

"But you knew," suspicion growing.

"I looked." That hasn't explained anything. "When I realised what I was, I looked online, and found a video. I don't know if it still exists. A survivor, who'd recognised the potion when they used it on him, realised what it meant - you can choose whether your body or your mind - your soul - is affected, but you can't be unaffected." Light has to hold his hands above the nephil, he's trembling, his words are disjointed and _this is not what he is like_ but he can't stay calm, can't be mature, the words just keep spilling out. "I don't know what the light I see is, but I've seen - they used the potion on another demonspawn, I think they were testing whether it was a bad batch, and she - she went dark, like they are, but from what they said she still looks human."

The nephil pushes Light back slightly, giving himself enough room to sit up. "You must be strong-willed."

Light chokes on a bitter laugh. "I meant to let that happen to me." The nephil stops. Light doesn't. "I thought - I've gone my whole life with appearances being all that matter, as long I look perfect no one cares about what I'm hiding, and I was sure I could hide that change as easily as everything else - but then it was happening, and I _couldn't_ -" he shivers, pulls in a deep breath. "It's terrifying when you're aware enough to realise that your mind, your _self,_ is being altered. And I - I couldn't do it. I couldn't - accept -"

The nephil reaches out and presses his hand flat against Light's chest. Light takes it as an order to be quiet, and obeys, grateful to be silenced.

"I thought the potion was meant to enslave me," the nephil tells him, explains the effect. "I thought that being changed like this would inhibit their plans -"

Light winces, can't not, and the nephil notices. "The other spawn are useful because they still look human. I don't. So they've been trying to think of other uses for me, and came up with -" he feels sick, but he forces his emotions away and continues evenly, "breeding possible hosts for the demons to possess. The problem there is that there's no reason to think that a human woman could survive carrying that sort of foetus, so..." He can't continue, he can't meet the nephil's eyes, he feels like he should apologise for putting the thought in their heads that breeding him with a human would be worthless but it had seemed such a perfect escape when he said it, passing it off as efficiency instead of mercy, and now this stranger is paying for his glib words and he cannot even bring himself to admit that he's responsible.

"They want to breed us," the nephil repeats, dubious, more swayed by Light's horror than by any sense of truth in the idea. Light shrugs, uncomfortable.

"I can't think of any other reason they'd lay you out like that and bring me here."

Disgust flickers over the nephil's face, ripples through his colours, and Light can tell that he's re-evaluating the situation and finding Light's suggestion more likely than he had. "Then what good does untying me do either of us? There are cameras."

Light nods slightly. "I know, but I think we've been quiet enough that the microphones won't pick up what we said, and -" he forces the emotions away again, turns to the clear-headed calculation that has kept him alive this long - "they'll believe it if they think I wanted to humiliate you into agreeing to this, and it'll be easier for us to fake it if we can control the position."

The nephil grimaces but nods back at him. "I understand," he says, voice raised for their hypothetical audience, and Light hopes that the disgust and defeat in it are merely good acting.

He steps back and lets a cruel smirk curl his lips. "Then prove it."

The nephil drops to his knees, head level with Light's groin, wings raised to shield his actions from the cameras - at least, that's what Light assumes. He could simply be stretching them or holding them in the least uncomfortable position. 

The movement brings Light's attention to his own groin, which he has been avoiding even more than the rest of his body. His arms, his legs, his torso, all seem mostly human still. The tail and wings are additions, not alterations. But this area - his cock is sheathed, like a dog's, pointing at his navel. His urethra is a small opening below its base, like a woman's. His testicles seem to have vanished entirely, and there is a slit that he refuses to explore - he might be as much a hermaphrodite as the nephil in front of him, now. Everything about these changes forces him to acknowledge that he is no longer human, and he is much more comfortable refusing to acknowledge the changes.

But that isn't an option now.

Unaware of Light's musings, the nephil brings his hands up to Light's sheathed cock and starts to stroke.

Light tenses, his tail coiling and lashing up instinctively to bind the nephil's wrists and yank his hands away. Frustration shines in the nephil's colours, and Light forces his tail to relax and let go because it's not as if it's hard to understand what the nephil is doing. To convince their unknown audience, this will need to be believable. Their audience must have seen that Light isn't aroused. Without that changing, there's far too much risk of them realising that Light and the nephil are faking congress.

The nephil is calculating something, himself. He suddenly leans forwards and starts using his mouth, behaving as though Light's actions were a rebuke for using his hands instead of an automatic revulsion to being touched like this - by someone who hates it and has no choice in the matter - at all.

Light manages, this time, to keep himself from rejecting the nephil's actions. It's harder, so much harder, to find an appropriate expression and wear it, play at being spoiled and haughty instead of sickened and horrified.

It's worse when he actually _gets_ hard, which is just stupid of him because _everything happening here is his fault in the first place,_ and the least he can do is try to help the nephil stay alive with as little trauma as possible. But it's not just how little either of them want this, it's not even the fact that he's being forced to feel himself growing hard, it's the discovery that his penis now has a baculum and the bizarre feeling of a bone pushing forwards and out as he becomes erect, the way that something he, like most boys, had become used to in his teens is suddenly as unfamiliar as his vision.

The nephil looks just as weirded-out by this as he is, and Light could possibly learn to be grateful for this new way of seeing what people are feeling because it seems much more accurate and detailed than body language and facial expressions.

He doesn't have much to be grateful for about his transformation. He isn't sure if he wants anything.

"I think that'll do," he says, projects for the microphones. The nephil pulls back, tucks his wings - Light guesses he's letting the cameras see that Light is hard, and if it weren't for the bone he'd be getting soft again at the thought but his baculum holds his penis stiff for the few seconds the nephil is showing it off. 

They stare into each other's eyes (more or less) as the nephil stands up. Light wonders what the nephil is seeing.

The nephil steps forwards, awkwardly wrapping his arms around Light's shoulders as he grinds against him half-intentionally. Light tries to ignore the slick fluids from the nephil's earlier torture as he tugs one of the nephil's legs up, gets his arm under the nephil's knee to support him, shuts down his mind's speculation on whether the nephil was this flexible before his transformation.

The nephil's wings rise suddenly, curling defensively around their heads and upper bodies. Light thinks it's instinctive, but takes the idea and drops his own wings, stretching them to block the rest of their bodies from view. He's startled for a moment when the nephil doesn't stop grinding against him, but a quickly muttered question - "Do _you_ know how our wings should move if we're doing this?" - has him joining in.

It doesn't take long before they find the problem with Light's idea of faking it. Put simply, his plan was based on his anatomy being closer to what he is used to, and they are finding that the baculum gets in the way, making his penis too stiff to press closer to his stomach, holding it too straight to be guided to the crease of the nephil's thigh, jabbing into the nephil's lower stomach and genitals -

"Just do it," the nephil growls, and slides himself onto Light's dick before Light lets himself realise what he means. Between the slickness and the spreading the dildo caused, Light's penis goes in easily, and the nephil actually sighs with relief at not having the sharp tip of the bone digging into his flesh any more.

It feels good, and Light hates it. Hates that this is his first time, hates that this is happening at all, hates that any part of himself might enjoy raping someone - because that's what this is, neither of them are willing participants - and _hates_ their captors for forcing him into this.

The nephil brushes his fingers over Light's cheek, surprised. "You're crying."

Light turns his head away. "Sorry."

"It's -" the nephil changes position slightly and shudders, inner walls tightening on Light's cock as his wings close tighter around them both, and Light has to grit his teeth not to start thrusting because it feels all slick and weird and horribly _good._ "It's not - something you need to - apologise for," the nephil gets out. "Try - nngh - try thinking of the last time you did this instead."

"I haven't done this before," Light snarls back.

"I meant before they captured you," the nephil snaps, voice shuddering as he squirms in Light's arms.

**"So do I."**

The nephil's realisation of what Light is saying throws him off his rhythm, shock, shame, defensiveness scattering through his colours. He hadn't realised that Light was a virgin. Apparently it matters to him that this is Light's first sexual experience, though Light doubts having anything to compare it with could make this _better._

Light doesn't want to admit that it matters to him that this is his first time. Having a stranger - his partner in this - react as if it should makes him feel worse, cold and shameful, but he shoves the feelings down and away and keeps going, ignoring the tears apparently pouring down his face (and how is he still seeing so clear, why can't he feel them on his cheeks, _what has happened to his body?_ ) and trying to retreat into basic physical awareness - don't think, just move.

It doesn't help. He's never been able to just shut his mind down; trying to ignore his emotions for the physical sensations doesn't help him ignore his shame, it just makes him more aware of how much he has to be ashamed of, how much some part of him likes this, likes the nephil's strong body and soft noises and tight wet heat -

Light never understood before why someone might hate themself.

He starts moving faster, harder, wanting to just get it over with. The nephil moves with him, matching him thrust for thrust, and Light gives up on his pride and buries his face in the nephil's hair, lets the brightness blind him the way darkness no longer can, and pretends that none of this is happening.

The nephil stiffens against him, grunting, and Light feels hot fluid spurt over his stomach - and that's it, he's lost, sobbing helplessly into the nephil's hair as he comes inside him.

He wrestles the emotions down as soon as he can and pulls out. Something occurs to him, and he dares to meet the nephil's eyes again. "I-I could probably convince them that I'm feeling possessive. If you want."

The nephil doesn't smile, doesn't relax, but Light can see the relief flowing through him at the suggestion. It's comforting to have proof that the nephil still thinks he's better than their captors. "It would probably be best. Can we escape?"

"Together, maybe," Light tells him. "I can't see the walls or ceilings here, but - I can see through them. Most of them, at least. We're underground."

The nephil half-hugs him with his wings, calculation and determination shining. "Then we'd best start planning."

Light smiles slightly, and tries not to think about what will come after they've escaped.


	7. Prompt: Lovecraftian

It makes no sense. I tell myself so, I tell myself that I could not have known, could never have predicted it, and yet - I will write it down here, in full, and hope to see what I could have done differently.

My name is T ~~\----~~ M ~~\------~~ , and for most of my working life I have been in the service of L ~~\----~~ Y ~~\-----~~ , a young man of uncommon genius. Master Y ~~\-----~~ has been a kind and generous employer, though I know he must have found my relative slowness a trial quite frequently - I am not considered particularly clever even among my peers, and in matters of intellect Master Y ~~\-----~~ has only the one peer that either of us know of - Master L ~~\---~~ L ~~\------~~ , whom Master Y ~~\-----~~ met during his studies at T ~~\---~~ University.

I do not understand what Master Y ~~\-----~~ was working on - he spoke of strings, matter, vibrations, echoes, as if they were all interconnected, as if the words all referred to the same thing - but he would frequently speak with me when his progress stalled, reducing his work to what even I could tell were laughably simplistic explanations. Several times, my responses would frustrate him, as I overlooked some minor yet necessary detail - yet others, I would have the joy of seeing him filled with renewed energy as my humble suggestions unwittingly lighted new paths of thought for him.

The time came, however, when no suggestions I made could help. Master Y ~~\-----~~ 's frustration grew, filling our tiny household - myself, Master Y ~~\-----~~ , and the maid-housekeeper-cook, a sweet girl named M ~~\---~~ A ~~\----~~ \- with a steadily rising disquiet. I tried my best to lessen the tension, but my attempts at playing the fool served only to rile Master Y ~~\-----~~ further, until at last I made the fateful suggestion of calling for Master L ~~\------~~ 's help.

It spoke greatly of Master Y ~~\-----~~ 's desperation that he agreed, for though Master L ~~\------~~ and he could be considered friends, their every interaction was based around some form of rivalry. It is hard to recall one conversation between them that did not eventually devolve into fisticuffs.

I do not know the details of Master Y ~~\-----~~ 's correspondence with Master L ~~\------~~. I only know that within a month, Master L ~~\------~~ arrived to join our residence, bringing few clothes and no servants but an astounding collection of esoteric equipment and a seemingly unlimited budget. M ~~\---~~ did not take well to our guest, since he was completely lacking in Master Y ~~\-----~~ 's polished manner and social graces - Master Y ~~\-----~~ accused him once of cultivating his brusquely rude manner, and he made no demur - but Master Y ~~\-----~~ brought her to see that he was a cherished friend, and so she made as good a show of accepting him as she could.

The eventual set-up the two genii decided on must have seemed greatly inefficient to any who did not know them. Instead of working together in the one laboratory, they modelled two rooms into adjacent laboratories, where each worked separately to mimic and outdo the other's achievements. Instead of the constant disruptions that would have come of forcing the two to share their workspace, this left them both free to implement their wildest ideas without being reigned in by the other, while still close enough to share their newest discoveries as they occurred.

In time, it was agreed by the both of them that electricity was needed to power their experiments. Master L ~~\------~~ brought in a curious battery, created and patented by his guardian Mr. W ~~\-----~~ , which provided a constant output with little or no maintenance required. I have no notion how this was achieved; when asked by Master Y ~~\-----~~ , all Master L ~~\------~~ would say on the matter was that the creation of such a thing required rare materials that few other than his guardian could lay hands on.

With the battery, my masters became ever more intent on their research, so that I had to drag them from their laboratories for necessities such as food and sleep. My most vital task in their experiments became ensuring that the supply of electricity was never disrupted, though I cannot say what it was used for.

It was, I think, at this time that the first cause for unease came to me. Not in my masters' actions - they behaved much as they had at T ~~\---~~ , saving fewer outbursts of fisticuffs happening between them - but the atmosphere of the house itself. Their experiments caused a - a sensation that I may not describe, save to say that it seemed somewhere between a scent and a sound.

The sensation itself was not unpleasant, and so M ~~\---~~ and I soon grew accustomed to it - more, we came to welcome it, for it brought a feeling of ease and relaxation that I have no comparison for. So long as it filled our heads, we had no room for concern over minor proprieties, and the longer it went on the more at ease we grew.

It is gone now, but its influence still lingers, so though I am now aware that my response to finding my masters sharing lecherous embraces - or later, coupling like animals with no thought to the presence of an audience - should have been horrified disapproval, I cannot for the life of me call to mind the reasons why. Truly, it seemed the answer to that tension that always simmered between them, and a far more agreeable one than their usual arguments.

M ~~\---~~ was at first stirred to jealousy by her own repeated discoveries of their new occupation. The change in her attitude was perhaps not the first warning I had, but I think it the first one I heeded. It made no sense that such a passionate reaction would vanish so quickly, to be replaced by active enjoyment of the sight of them pleasuring each other.

Though that sight was very enjoyable. Even now, the memories stir me; the more so since each time they became aware of their audience they would delight in enticing our participation - though perhaps that gives an inaccurate impression; they would use their mouths upon us, to taste our pleasure. Never once did I couple with either of my masters, though my fondest memory is of the time Master Y ~~\-----~~ decided he wished to taste both myself and M ~~\---~~ simultaneously, and had us join together that he might have his wish. Master L ~~\------~~ entered the room as I was nearing my peak within M ~~\---~~ , and ordered us apart, immediately taking my length down his throat while Master Y ~~\-----~~ buried his tongue as deep inide M ~~\---~~ as he could reach.

Much as I - and, I do believe, M ~~\---~~ \- enjoyed taking our pleasure with each other, it seemed natural that we should only do at our masters' commands, instead of by our own choice in our own time. This may sound to be the second warning I would have heeded, but in truth it was not. No, my second warning was comparatively innocuous - simply that M ~~\---~~ , who after all held no great fondness for Master L ~~\------~~ , should be found lying on the floor shuddering with pleasure and clutching Master L ~~\------~~ 's head tightly to the junction 'tween her thighs instead of our other master.

I could not say why this stood out to me where the general licentiousness of our actions did not, but the fact remains: M ~~\---~~ 's willingness to share her body with both our masters caused me a deep unease I was unwilling to admit to. I did my best to ignore it, instead enjoying the sight of her wracked with pleasure beneath Master L ~~\------~~ 's clever mouth.

It was not long after this that I noted the third sign; the fluids of our masters were growing darker. Not, as could be expected, a yellowing, but instead a gradual darkening to grey. I suspect that this change began long before it was visible, and that it was the cause of our masters' refusal to allow myself or M ~~\---~~ to use our own mouths for their pleasure. Looking back, I see that they took care that we should avoid any contact with their seed.

M ~~\---~~ refused to accept this, desiring as she did a more intimate connection with Master Y ~~\-----~~. She asked that they take her, that they lie with her and bed her properly - and I cannot blame either of my masters that they did not stand firm against her pleas, for I know better than any how tempting her body is. Was.

After the granting of her wish I was no longer allowed between M ~~\---~~ 's soft thighs, and I never again saw her take either of our masters into her mouth. Instead, the unspoken rules that applied to our masters suddenly held also with her, that at any time I might find them engaging in pleasuring each other - in any combination - and at any time I might have my length swallowed down by a smooth throat and my spend drawn from me. The time that stands out clearest to me is when M ~~\---~~ found me packing away fresh groceries and immediately dropped to her knees before me, kissing and sucking as her hands worked busily beneath her skirt.

The slickness upon her fingers and dripping down her thighs was dark.

In time, I also came to note another physical oddity the three of them now shared - a raised spot, nestled just below the ribs, that looked like nothing so much as if a duck's egg were being pressed against the skin from inside their bodies. Even with the sedating sensation filling the house, this caused me a dull horror which was fed to unbearable proportions by the final incident I witnessed.

I was in the kitchen at the doorway to the passage as Master L ~~\------~~ went from his personal rooms to his laboratory - a path which took him away from me, and so he was unaware of my observing him. A rug which I am ashamed to admit I had knocked askew earlier that day tripped him, and in trying to catch himself he slammed his right arm against the edge of an old and heavy chest with such force that it bent between the elbow and the wrist.

Still, the memory of that unnatural sight haunts me - for instead of bending as a mortal limb of muscle and bone should, his arm deformed itself, much as a hose will go around an obstacle. He gave no sign of pain at what should have been a spectacular injury, merely moving his arm away so that it returned to its previous shape - which it did as easily as the aforementioned hose would. He walked on with no notion that I had seen this evidence of his inhumanity, leaving me frozen in shocked horror.

I knew now that something from my masters' experiments had changed them, corrupted them to these evil creatures. Further, M ~~\---~~ 's own corruption showed that whatever had caused this was contagious, meaning that no human would be safe from these monsters.

I recognised my duty. Taking my gun and loading it, I returned to the battery and wilfully interfered with the connections. The disturbance immediately removed the indescribable sensation from the house, and also brought the three of them running.

I shot them each, in the heart and the chest. Sickeningly, M ~~\---~~ 's blood was far darker than it should have been, while our masters' was as black and thick as treacle.

And it has come to this - I have written the whole tale, but as expected I have no more idea of what to make from it than I had before I began

I hear footsteps. I am hearing things, for I swear no one has entered the house

The sensation - The sensation has returned!

I hear their voices!

They are coming up the stairs

 

My most gracious masters have generously forgiven my grave foolishness. Thankfully, the experiment was at a point where the temporary disruption did not render their work useless, and so I have merely been most pleasantly chastised. Unfortunately, the nature of my punishment has rendered me unfit to be fed from.

We agree that the household would best be expanded by two more female servants - women can provide for so much longer than a man before needing to rest. Master L ~~\------~~ has already suggested our first - N ~~\----~~ P ~~\-----~~ nee M ~~\-----~~ , brave widow of a lost soldier.

I wonder how she will taste.


	8. Prompt: Modern Horror

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...This probably counts as more fucked-up than my others in this series. Including Cannibalism.

Near loves white.

Near loves his white room, with the white carpet, white walls, white bedding. Near loves his clear shelves, clear storage, where he can see all his toys neatly arranged in the right patterns.

The door opens, and Near's brother comes in with Near's white clothes. Near likes his brother. His brother is blue - other people think he's grey, or black-and-white, but Near can see that he's bright bright blue. "Good morning, Near," his brother greets him.

"Good morning, L," Near responds. His brother is L, a sharp clear right-angle. Near knows that other people call him something else, but that other name - Rue, Ryuuga, Ryuuzaki - that isn't right. It shifts in Near's head, slithering into different shapes. Near doesn't like that name for his brother.

L helps Near out of his nightclothes. Near has been told he can dress himself. Near agrees. He can. But being dressed by his brother is right, it's the routine, and Near must follow the routine. Near hated puberty, when the routine kept changing, when he kept having to tell his brother to do things differently to how they'd always been done because Near has always been the one who knows what the routine is, but it's settled now and his brother still dresses Near.

There's movement by the open door. Near looks over and sees his brother's boyfriend.

Near isn't sure what his brother's boyfriend's name is. He thinks it might be Kira, K sharply pointed like sparkles, but Kira is Killer and the boyfriend glows bloody red in his eyes so he never uses it.

Near's brother notices his boyfriend, too, and tugs Near's naked legs down, turns him by his naked hip to show off his naked body to the boyfriend. Near can't hold back the whine deep in his throat as he watches the boyfriend stare at him. Near is getting hard. Near's brother is hard. Near's brother's boyfriend is hard.

This is the routine, too.

Near's brother's boyfriend comes in, walks straight up to Near's brother and kisses him, fingers tangled in his hair. Near watches, takes in every detail as Near's brother's boyfriend dominates Near's brother, firm and commanding till Near's brother goes slack and passive under him.

Near's brother likes that. Near knows. It feels good. Near knows.

Once he's satisfied, Near's brother's boyfriend goes to make their breakfasts. Near's brother leads Near to the bathroom for his first shower of the day. Near's brother has long, thin fingers that slide over and into Near's body as he washes him.

It's efficient.

Near gets harder.

Near's brother dresses Near and then kisses him firmly.

Their family has a social structure. Near's brother's boyfriend dominates Near's brother. Near's brother dominates Near. Near knows his place. Near's place is regularly reinforced. Near likes it. It's routine, and Near needs the routine.

Near submits.

Near likes it.

 

Near is still hard at breakfast, it's part of the routine. Near's brother's boyfriend comes over and puts down a bowl with Near's porridge in it, slides his hand inside Near's white sweatsuit and wraps it around Near's hard cock. Near stares up at him and holds still, submitting.

"Do you want to go to the socialising club today?" Near's brother's boyfriend asks. This is one good change to the routine - before Near's brother's boyfriend, Near always had to answer that question with words, because Near doesn't trust nodding, and he used to get tangled between whether he wanted to and whether he felt he should and whether he might want to later - but now, if Near holds still it means yes, because he is being obedient and good, and if Near bucks up it means no because Near is being naughty and will have to be punished.

Near is still.

"Good boy," Near's brother's boyfriend says, and lets go.

Near likes being a good boy. He eats his porridge, and watches as his brother's boyfriend pulls his brother onto his lap and murmurs in his ear. Their conversations are low, which is good - they talk about too many different things, and it unsettles Near. One day will be bills, another stocks and shares, another sexual stimulation, and no order to which topic. When Near can't hear what they say, it's just them having a conversation, and that's routine.

 

The socialising club is run by a minor charity, meant for young adults who have serious mental and emotional disabilities. Near's brother's boyfriend found it for them. There are lots of carers at the club, all well-trained, and Near knows that if any of them were to do something unacceptable he could tell his brother or his brother's boyfriend and they would solve it.

What Near's brother and Near's brother's boyfriend do to him would be seen as something that needs to be solved if anyone found out about it. Near knows. His family's social structure is technically illegal, and unacceptable to wider society. Near knows. Near tucks the knowledge away in a hidden compartment in his mind every time he comes here, and so none of the well-trained carers have any idea how far from standard his homelife is.

Near doesn't like the group. Too unpredictable, too untidy, too loud. But it is necessary for him to be capable of interacting with other people, so he comes here every time he feels he can stand it.

There are two here he knows as M - one a client with yellow-gold hair, flashing orange jagged and chaotic, and the other a carer with brown hair, dim green and an easygoing attitude, who smells of smoke. They're always together, so it's more efficient to use one symbol for the two of them.

M-who-is-not-a-carer hates Near. Near doesn't care why. Whenever they are in the same group, one M will try to goad a response from Near and the other will try to defuse the situation. Near stays silent, draws in, shows less and less of his reactions. He thinks he enjoys how that pushes M to do more and more, but he can't tell because M's words, M's gestures, M's actions all stir up a sticky black cloud inside him that hide everything he understands and all he can do is show a blank face because he loses how to show feelings.

After the group, Near's brother and Near's brother's boyfriend collect him and the three of them go wandering.

There's no routine to where they go, and Near feels black.

Near's brother's boyfriend buys them all bus tickets, takes them to a part of the city they've never visited before, where no one who knows them will see them. Then he leads them around, groping Near's brother's ass, pausing in secluded areas to pin Near or his brother to a wall and kiss them breathless.

Near's head is filled with black. Near submits. Near's brother submits. All of them are hard by the time Near's brother's boyfriend chooses a spot, a hidden corner where no one will look because no one cares, and shoves Near into it.

Near's ass is bared, his hard cock free in the air, and Near's head is whirling black. Near is kissed, and Near submits. Near's brother and Near's brother's boyfriend stand in front of him, a triangle with him protected by walls and family, and Near's brother wraps one leg around his boyfriend's hip as his boyfriend fucks him hard and each of them buries two fingers deep inside Near and Near submits. Near's brother's boyfriend smirks as he fucks them both, says, "Look at you two. Such utter sluts," and Near comes knowing that his face must look as orgasmically empty as his brother's does.

Afterwards, Near's brother and his boyfriend wipe them all down quickly. Near feels hollow and black. It's better than the whirling black from M.

They go home.

 

Near has a special plate at dinner, with built-in partitions keeping each food from touching the others. The beef is separate from the potatoes is separate from the peas are separate from the carrots.

Near isn't particularly fussy about what his food is so long as none of it mixes.

After eating, Near works on one of his puzzles while his brother surfs the web. His brother's boyfriend does the washing up. Each piece Near fits into place goes perfectly. He fits piece after piece till everything is in the exact right order.

By bedtime, Near feels less black inside.

Near goes to the bathroom again. Near's brother follows. It's the routine. Near's brother brings out the enema equipment, the large syringe and the rubber tube and the ribbed plug. Near's brother's boyfriend comes in as Near's brother fills the sink with warm soap-water, and slicks the plug, eyes on Near. He shines so red and Near is hot and without being touched Near is completely dominated. Near's brother fills the syringe, fits the tubing, pushes out the air bubbles. Near's brother's boyfriend turns Near to face the mirror and Near is exposed, open, vulnerable.

The plug always feels too large. Near's voice rings off the mirror, crystalline chimes as he's stretched and owned. Behind him, his brother's whimpers say that he is being owned just as thoroughly and Near can feel his body trying to suck the plug deeper.

Near stares at his own face in the mirror as he is filled with soapy water. "You need to be cleaned out," Near's brother says, and his voice makes the inside of Near's head hum so Near nods and pushes his ass out further. Being full is unpleasant, but releasing it is a pleasure and by the time he is clean inside and out Near's head is as transparent as his shelves.

Near's brother and Near's brother's boyfriend half-carry him to his room, lie him down on his white bed. Near's brother spreads Near's thighs, raises his ass. "Shall I paint your insides white?" he asks, the question that his boyfriend suggested years ago, and Near offers himself and begs, "Please!"

His brother's cock feels huge every time, like it's reaching his chest, like it's hollowing him out, and Near lies there open-mouthed and lets his brother fuck needy slutty noises out of his mouth until his brother's boyfriend comes forward with his own hard cock bare and says, "Shall I paint the back of your throat white?"

He doesn't wait for an answer, thrusts in deep, and Near milks the two cocks inside him as they use him for their pleasure, blue and red fucking him, fucking him, blue pounding his ass, red filling his throat, and Near loves it when their rhythm changes and they come in him, make him come, white in his throat, white dripping from his ass, white spurting from his cock, white the entirety of his empty mind.

They dress him in his white nightclothes and tuck him into his white bed. Near's brother brushes his hair off his face. "We're both much happier since Light moved in," he murmurs, then moans as his boyfriend starts fingering him.

"Yes," Near agrees, knowing that his brother sometimes needs the reassurance. He feels happy as blue and red leave, leaving him surrounded by white, full of white.

Near loves white.


End file.
